


lay with me so it doesn't hurt

by SkylandMountain1013



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, bit o fluff, potatoes in love, season 5 speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 23:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylandMountain1013/pseuds/SkylandMountain1013
Summary: He tries to keep his tone light, but he knows they are both careening towards an obvious climax. They haven't talked since his return, and what transpired before he disappeared could hardly be defined as a conversation.





	lay with me so it doesn't hurt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nessnessquik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessnessquik/gifts).



For the third night in a row his eyes fly open and when checking, his phone greets him with a cheery 2:00 am.

He's not entirely surprised- it's only been a week and his body hasn't adjusted to being back in this orbit.

He sits up and twists, groaning as the vertebra in his neck pop and release tension. It's more than the disruption in his circadian rhythm throwing him off- he spends the daylight hours wandering the base, navigating the fog of being dropped back into the grind with no warning.

For lack of a better term, he feels well, like an alien.

Daisy has been clingy, checking in on him at every turn, like he might disappear again at a moments notice. Fitz and Simmons have been barreling questions at him, trying to compare Maveth to wherever he was. (And he still doesn't know exactly where he ended up.)

And May- besides a tight hug and a emotion laced, " _Phil_ ," when he returned- has acted like nothing happened at all. Business as usual.

He slides on a pair of shorts and an undershirt and navigates his way to the training room. If he can't keep his mind at rest, he might as well let his body catch up.

The door opens and he's greeted by the sight of Melinda, working the punching bag in the middle of the room.

He watches her for a few moments, not wanting to interrupt her routine.

She notices him on the follow through of a roundhouse kick, and stills the bag. She doesn't move towards him, instead focusing on unwrapping and rewrapping the tape around her hands.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

He shrugs in response. "I haven't figured out what month it is yet, much less the hour." It's a poor attempt at humor, but this is all more than he was expecting to have to deal with at this hour of the morning.

"January," she replies flatly.

"Right," he mutters. He heads towards the sparring mats in the back of the gym.

She follows him, slinging two towels over her shoulder. "Care to go a few rounds? Seems like we both have some energy to burn."

He nods, and they both get into position.

In his best shape, he considers himself an equal partner to her. He is nowhere near that. His muscles ache, his mind is exhausted, and she is moving with the finesse and strength of a prizefighter. It doesn't take her long to gain the upper hand.

When his back hits the ground for the fourth time, he grunts and signals for a pause.

"Feeling any better?" He manages to wheeze out.

"Not really," she replies, standing and tossing a towel towards him.

"Your rage seems to be unilaterally directed here." He tries to keep his tone light, but he knows they are both careening towards an obvious climax. They haven't talked since his return, and what transpired before he disappeared could hardly be defined as a conversation.

Her tone is even as she speaks, moving back towards him. From his angle on the ground, she towers over him. He thinks that's apropos.

"You abandoned the team."

He sits up. "Excuse me?"

"You knew you were leaving and neglected to inform a single member of this team. It was reckless."

"I wasn't able to share. It could have jeopardized the deal and compromised the safety of the team." He remembers shaking hands with Reyes, the heat that seared through him a moment later, the uncertainty hanging over him in the months after.

Melinda begins to pace, like an animal contemplating its next move. "Those decisions aren't supposed to be made unilaterally."

The adrenaline starts flowing again. He forces himself to keep this professional. He's too tired to peel back the layers right now. "The mission was classified, _Agent May_."

Her chest flushes and her eyes widen. It's almost imperceptible- but he knows her better than most. He's opened a wound.

"Cut the bullshit, Phil. You made a deal with the devil and didn't tell me!"

"It wouldn't have made a difference if I had."

"I could have helped you!"

They're both yelling now, and there's a fleeting wonder if anyone else is awake. Their sentences intermingle, accusations of mistrust and months of pent up emotion bursting through. Finally her voice tops his.

"Eight months. Eight months of not knowing if you were dead or not!"

It lands harder than any of her punches. He quiets and runs a hand over the back of his neck.

Now holding his attention, she speaks softer. "There were no leads. Nothing. Most of the team gave up. And then to have you just show back up? It's a lot to process."

"I've disappeared before, you know."

"Not since-" She stops herself and recollects her thoughts. "This time was different."

He nods in understanding. "I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if my situation had put you in danger. I couldn't do that to you again."

As a response, she extends a hand to him.

"Are you going to drop kick me again?"

"Haven't decided yet," she deadpans. But she offers a faint smile and so he allows her to pull him up next to her.

There's a moment of quiet uncertainty, and then he surrounds her in an embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispers into her hair. "You're all I thought about."

"I missed you so much," she admits. He feels the vibration of her voice throughout his body. It anchors him to this planet more than anything else has. He places a kiss on the crown of her head.

She pulls back, splaying her palms across his chest. "This is some deal we made."

He chokes out a laugh and then throws caution to the wind. She meets him halfway (of course she does, a back part of his brain muses) and he's finally home.

It's Melinda that deepens the kiss, tongue probing past his teeth, arms winding around his hips. He feels the fog lifting- his every nerve is alive and he takes the opportunity to drag his fingers through her hair.

When they need to break for air, their foreheads remain touching.

"I still don't have any Haig."

She laughs, full and throaty. "How about a shower and a bed?"

"I can work with that."

As she pulls away her face turns serious. "We still have a lot to talk about, Phil."

He knows, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and there's nothing that can't wait until daybreak. "Tomorrow."

She nods in agreement and grabs her workout bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

He allows his hand to rest on the small of her back as they navigate the darkness back to his room.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea was all nessnessquik's- thanks for letting me play with this story!!


End file.
